Ron Weasley and the Secret Within
by Tiny Teacup
Summary: Some Ron/Oliver slash. Complete and utter fluff.
1. 1: Something Special

Ron jumped up with a cheer. Within moments he was on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, wanting to congratulate his best friend Harry Potter. Harry had done another fine job of capturing the snitch. The rest of the Gryffindors were all trying to do the same thing, along with several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. The Slytherins, whom Gryffindor had been playing, looked the very part of dejected.

Ron wiggled his way through the crowd, finally making it to the side of his dark-haired friend. Harry was trying to keep from being trampled by dozens of enthusiastic students. The rest of the Quidditch team was close by. Ron gave his brothers Fred and George, the team beaters, a thumbs-up. The two smiled at him before turning to a conversation with the rest of the team. Distracted momentarily, Ron almost knocked the Gryffindor seeker over.

"Harry, that was brilliant!" Ron gave his friend a pat on the shoulder after managing to steady himself.

Harry smiled and nodded a thank you as the Gryffindor team captain, Oliver Wood, came up beside him.

"Keep up the good work, Potter!" Oliver said, giving Harry a smile, "Ron." He nodded in Ron's direction, giving the red headed boy a glance that made his cheeks flush slightly. The reaction was instantaneous and unfathomable.

"Oliver," Ron tried to hide his blushing cheeks from the older boy, quite unsuccessful in doing so.

"Harry, we'd better... Harry?" Ron glanced about, noticing that his friend was no where in sight. Ron wondered where he'd gone in such a hurry.

Suddenly, he felt the texture of parchment as it was pushed against his palm. He watched the fleeting form of Oliver Wood as he lost himself amongst the now dispersing crowd.

Ron unfolded the parchment and glanced over the few words that had been scribbled on it. The short message was a little messy and smudged, indicating that it had most likely been written in a hurry.

"Meet me tonight at the top of the astronomy tower." Ron read aloud. He glanced up at the space Oliver had occupied only moments before with a questioning look at his face, "What in the world?"

-

Ron sat his half-empty mug of butterbeer on the first table he came to. He had seen Oliver leave a few minutes earlier and assumed it was time to go. Why would the keeper want to see him? Why couldn't he just say what he had to in the common room. Many were still actively celebrating the day's win over Slytherin, though the party was winding down somewhat. It wasn't so noisy that they wouldn't have been able to hear each other.

He borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak without asking. Harry would have wanted to know why he needed it. He normally would have been glad to be honest with his friend, but he didn't really have a good explanation. He made his way to the astronomy tower at a moderate pace. The lighting was dim, making the short trip just a tad creepier than it would have been during the day. Ron kept low as well as trying to keep a safe distance from anything he might bump into. Just a few more steps and the youngest Weasley boy had found his way to the proper door.

With only a small amount of trouble getting the door to open quietly, Ron soon found himself in the cool, crisp night air. The sky overhead was filled with marvelously bright stars. Ron didn't see Oliver anywhere. The only thing out of place was a single white rose lying on a marble bench near the balcony. Ron looked around for a moment or two before approaching the rose and carefully picking it up. He smelled the rose's sweet fragrance and then felt utterly silly. This whole thing must have been set up for some one else. It was just a mistake that he got that note. Oliver must have just been so nervous about giving it to it's recipient that he accidentally gave it to Ron instead. He placed the rose gently back in place and started towards the door.

"Don't go." A soft voice spoke. Ron jumped and turned around to find Oliver stepping out of a shadowed corner of the room.

"Sorry if I startled you," said the older boy, dusting off his robes a little, "I just. Wanted to see you when you came." He smiled sheepishly.

"You mean... This is really for me?" Ron pointed at the rose.

Oliver nodded, "I know it isn't much."

"It's beautiful." Ron blushed, "But... Why?"

"People always seem to see you as 'one of those Weasley brothers' or 'Harry Potter's best friend' like you're some kind of shadow or side-kick."

Ron pouted for a moment at that, "Thanks."

Oliver took a step forward, giving Ron that same look he had given him earlier on the pitch, "No, no, that's not what I mean." He was starting to blush himself, "What I'm trying to say is. Ronald Weasley, I know you're something special."

"Oh, Oliver." It was about all Ron could force from lips. Those lips, like the rest of him, were just a bit stunned by the other boy's confession.

Oliver picked up the rose and held it out to Ron gingerly. Ron reached out to take it, feeling flustered and confused. No one had ever even tried to say these kinds of things to him before. Oliver seemed so honest, so sincere, so open.

Ron's hand brushed against Oliver's as he took the flower. He was surprised at the softness of the other boy's skin. He would have thought that all that quidditch playing would have left him more calloused. Ron got another whiff of the rose's scent. Had it been this intoxicating moments ago?

"Oliver. I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything." Oliver closed the distance between himself and Ron with a pair of quick strides. He leaned down to give the red-haired boy a kiss. Oliver's lips felt as soft as the petals of the rose Ron still held in his hand. Without giving Ron a chance to say anything, without saying anything himself, Oliver was gone. Ron was left alone with his confusion, clutching the white rose to his chest.

"Ouch," Ron whispered after standing there for a few minutes in silence. He realized he'd been gripping the rose and had pricked himself on one of its thorns. He brought his pricked figure to his mouth and sucked on the tiny wound.

Ron got to thinking that he had better get back to Gryffindor tour before his absence became noticeable. There was also a chance that Harry would find his invisibility cloak missing and fly into a panic.

Ron turned on his heels and started the journey back to the Gryffindor common room, where cheerful voices would likely still be raised in celebration. He noted to himself when he got there that Oliver wasn't in sight. Ron ran up to the room he shared with Harry and the other boys in his year. He laid the rose delicately on top of the other things in his trunk before rejoining the party. For the rest of the evening he found himself anxious for his next meeting with Oliver. Ron didn't exactly know what Oliver had meant by all of it, but he was pretty sure he liked it.


	2. 2: A Rose by Any Other Name

Ron sighed quietly, staring up at the canopy of his four-poster.

"How is it," he thought, "That my entire life can seem to turn upside-down in less than a day?"

He wondered if Oliver was lying awake too, thinking about the day's events. Ron made sure his roommates were asleep before poking his head out between his four-poster's curtains. He opened his trunk as quietly as he could and found the white rose lying where he had left it. He placed it gently under his pillow and went to sleep with a small smile on his lips that stayed the whole night through.

-

It wasn't until breakfast the next morning that Ron saw the Gryffindor keeper, sitting in the great hall with a plate full of food in front of him. His breakfast wasn't going unnoticed, though he was talking animatedly with Fred and George. Ron decided against going up and saying good morning, since he had seen Fred and George in the common room earlier and had said just that before they had departed for an early quidditch practice. The last thing Ron needed was his brothers asking him why he was going out of his way to speak to their captain.

Ron soon found himself seated as usual between Harry and Hermione, his breakfast plate having less food on it than it normally would have. How was he to eat at a time like this? Both his best friends were unaware of his predicament as he dragged a small piece of a sausage round and round through a puddle of syrup.

He tried to pay attention to Hermione as she explained something about their latest herbology assignment. When she had finished, Ron couldn't remember a single word she'd said.

He reached a hand into his robes and let his fingertips brush the petals of the rose Oliver had given him. He'd tucked it neatly into an inner pocket for reasons he couldn't explain.

He glanced over in Oliver's direction and caught the older boy's gaze for a moment. Ron smiled a little. Oliver gave a small nod of acknowledgment. Ron felt something flutter in his stomach. It sent what was left of his ability to concentrate into oblivion.

-

That afternoon Ron was finding double potions class absolutely atrocious, even more so than usual. The Slytherins usually did everything they could to annoy the Gryffindors. That hadn't changed. Ron was having other troubles besides the antics of his classmates.

"Ron, is anything the matter? That's the third time you've added that green powder to the potion." Harry said, quietly. Luckily for Ron, Harry was a very forgiving work partner.

"Oh. Sorry, Harry." Ron tried to shake some of the fog out of his head.

"Maybe we can fish it out," Harry stared in to the cauldron before looking up at Ron, "Ron?"

"Harry?"

"There's nothing in the cauldron but that green powder. What's got you so distracted?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." Ron quickly poured the powder in to a jar and then measured the correct amount into their cauldron. Harry looked as if he wanted to say more about the subject. He remained silent instead, focusing on measuring out some of the other potion ingredients.

"What's this potion supposed to do?"

Hermione piped up at that point, "It makes a special sort of ink that can only be seen by its maker. You have to put one of your hairs in like this. See?" She demonstrated by plucking a hair from Lavender Brown's head. The girl gave her a withering glance that she didn't notice didn't notice, rubbing her head like Hermione had slapped her.

The potion swirled brightly for a moment. With a small puff of smoke, it turned a dark shade of purple.

"Try it out, Lavender."

Lavender dipped the end of a quill in the cauldron she was sharing with Hermione. She took it and scribbled quickly on some parchment. A moment or two later, she held the parchment up to Hermione. Gryffindor's smartest student nodded her approval.

"Do you want to do it or shall I?" Harry asked Ron. Ron shrugged and Harry took that as permission to steal a vibrantly red hair. Harry dropped the hair into their cauldron. The potion within swirled as Hermione and Lavender's had done, then turned a warm shade of red.

Ron scribbled on a piece of parchment, a simple "I'm in potions class." He eyed the red writing. It looked normal enough. He slid the parchment towards Harry and Harry glanced at it.

"Well, it works. Brilliant." Harry grinned.

After only a few more minutes, the class was over. Ron, after a small amount of thought, decided to pour some of the ink potion into a bottle and save it for later. It could come in useful someday.

-

Classes were over for the day. Since it was Friday, everybody was anxious to have some fun. Everybody but Ron. Upon reaching Gryffindor tower he headed straight for the boys' dormitory and pulled the rose from within his robes. He placed it on one of the pillows of his four-poster and laid staring at it. The petals hadn't even begun to wilt yet. He wondered for a while if Oliver had enchanted it in some way.

Ron hadn't seen Oliver since breakfast and found himself wanting to. Ron really needed to talk about all this, and Oliver, it seemed, was the only person he could talk to. He certainly couldn't imagine telling Harry or Hermione.

Ron sighed and rolled over on to his back, holding the rose above his head to look at it, "Oliver."

After that word had left Ron's lips, a single petal fell from the rose to land on his chest. The rose, to Ron's surprise, disappeared as if it had never been there.

Ron eyed the petal that had fallen from the rose, the only evidence that it had existed. It glowed warmly for a moment, changing shape as it did so. The glow was bright enough that Ron shielded his eyes with a hand for a long moment. When he lowered his hand, the petal was no longer glowing. It was also no longer a petal.

It looked to be a card, like the famous witches and wizards cards you got with chocolate frogs. Ron picked it up and looked at it. Emblazoned on the front in glittering gold letters was "Ronald Weasley," followed by a picture of himself in his Hogwarts robes. The Ron in the picture waved brightly.

Ron's jaw dropped, "Fantastic."

The redheaded boy turned the card over in his palm and looked at the back. In small, black letters it read:

"Ronald Weasley, best known for stealing the heart of Oliver Wood at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Then, near the bottom, in Oliver's writing, "I know you collect these. I made this one for you. There's never been a finer wizard in my opinion. Oliver."

Ron blinked away tears that were threatening to spill and held the card to his chest. He had never felt better.


	3. 3: Things Change

Ron's eyes fluttered open to see his best friend Harry's face hovering over his beneath the canopy of his four-poster. Harry was prodding at his shoulder and cheerfully trying to get him to wake up. Ron rolled over on to his stomach and mumbled groggily about it being too early to be alive.

Harry tried one last time, saying something about Hogsmeade. Ron somehow managed to heave a pillow in Harry's general direction. It was no where near its target when it landed, making the slightest noise as it hit the floor. It was after those few events that Ron fell back asleep and didn't wake up until almost noon.

Ron remembered, when he woke up at last, about the trip in to Hogsmeade that students were taking that day. Harry had tried to convince him to go.

The youngest Weasley boy shrugged. He hadn't really wanted to go, any way. He felt like being alone. Maybe not completely alone. There was a certain quidditch team captain that came to mind. He would love to have the pleasure of Oliver's company.

Ron got dressed in a hurried fashion. He decided against the formality of robes, instead slipping on one of the maroon sweaters that his mother sent him every Christmas, a large capital 'R' on the front. He had a couple in the back of his dresser already and expected to have another within a couple months. Ron had to wonder how his mom's homemade sweaters were so incredibly comfortable. If she cast spells on them to make them feel irresistible, he suspected it was a secret she'd take to the grave.

Ron examined himself in a long mirror positioned near the large window on one side of the room. He tugged lightly at the bottom of his sweater, letting out a small, unhappy noise.

"I still hate maroon." He muttered as he headed out the door.

-

Ron scanned the great hall as he walked through the large double doors. A couple of hefty Slytherin girls were playing chess at their table. There was a Ravenclaw boy reading a book which he held in one hand while he tried to aim a sandwich in the vicinity of his mouth with the other. A small group of Hufflepuffs had just finished eating their lunch, passing Ron and chattering about nothing in particular on their way out.

Ron's eyes fell on the Gryffindor table and he almost wanted to turn on his heels and leave. A lump of nervousness grew in his throat, for the one person he didn't know if he was ready to see was seated comfortably in front of him.

Oliver Wood.

Ron didn't want to turn and walk away. He was almost starving, after all, and he would have to talk to Oliver sooner or later. Why was he so nervous, anyway? Just because no one had ever felt for him like Oliver seemed to.

Ron stood there thinking for a few moments, attracting a strange look or two from Professor Snape. The potions professor was eating his lunch and looking as unhappy as ever.

Oliver was the Gryffindor table's only inhabitant. Now was as good of a time as any to stop being so nervous and actually approach the boy.

Ron sat down across from Oliver and watched the older boy push a bit of pie around on his plate for a moment. Ron coughed lightly into his hand. Oliver looked up and realized that Ron was there.

"Ron!" Oliver smiled widely. Ron felt his knees buckle, quite glad at that moment that he was already sitting down.

"I was almost sure I'd scared you off." Oliver was grinning with happiness. He almost looked... Relieved? Ron felt a pang of guilt for avoiding Oliver as long as he had. He just hadn't felt ready to talk about his feeling towards the other boy. He still didn't quite know how to define those feelings.

"No." Ron couldn't help but smile back, "I just... Well, I didn't really know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Oliver stated, reaching under the table and giving Ron's hand a squeeze. Ron, enjoying the warmth, didn't pull away, "I like you, Ron Weasley."

Ron sat silently for what seemed like ages. He just didn't know what to say. Though he had never particularly minded it, Harry and Hermione had overshadowed him almost since the day they'd arrived at Hogwarts. He really didn't know how to react to being the sole object of such intent attention.

Oliver's smile didn't leave as he pulled the soft warmth of his hand away from Ron's. Oliver started to get up.

"Wait!" Ron almost shouted, drawing glances from the few other people in the room. He coughed and turned red.

"I..." He said this syllable very timidly, wringing his hands in his lap. "I. I think I like you, too."

Oliver grinned widely at that and Ron was once again thankful that he was sitting. Oliver motioned for Ron to get up and come with him. He obliged once he felt his legs could be trusted to support him.

-

Ron walked along the shore of the lake he had rarely visited since journeying across it as a first year. The cool autumn air glided over the lake's surface and across Ron's body. Despite his fuzzy, warm sweater, Ron shivered slightly. There was a strong arm around him in less than a second, a warm hand rubbing his shoulder.

Ron blushed a little as he automatically snuggled closer to the warmth of Oliver's side.

"So..." He broke the comfortable silence the pair had been walking in.

"Hmm?" Oliver questioned with a glance.

"Can I ask you something?" Ron shuffled a foot against the ground, listening to the soft crackle of fallen leaves underfoot. He coughed softly before continuing, "Why me? I mean. You could probably have your pick of anyone in our house if you wanted. Anyone in the school, maybe."

"The truth?" Oliver asked. Ron nodded.

"I don't know." Oliver sat down on the ground, leaning against a rather large tree. He gave the spot next to him a light pat and that was all the encouragement Ron needed. "There's just something about you that no one else has. I know it's special, I know you're special, even if I'm the only one that can see it."

Ron blushed, looking at his knees.

"Or..." Oliver started. Ron looked up at him.

"Maybe it's just how good you look in that sweater." Oliver smiled.

Ron smirked, "Right."

"I mean it!" Oliver's smile was so sincere that Ron just wanted to lean over and kiss him, and that he did.

-

That evening, Ron left the common room and went up to the dormitories. He approached the mirror, giving the sweater he still wore a critical inspection. After tugging at the bottom a little and turning around once, he was satisfied.

"I like maroon."


	4. 4: One Man's Fall is Also His Fortune

Ron Weasley hugged his arms close to his chest, shivering a little. The stands around the quidditch pitch were full of chatter and cheering. Hermione was contributing to this chatter by talking into his ear about something or another to do with her Muggle Studies class. How she found interest in being taught things she likely already knew, he didn't know. Ron watched the pitch, waiting for the teams to emerge and take flight.

"Ron? Ron, are you listening?" Hermione questioned. Ron let out a non-committal grunt. Hermione rolled her eyes, losing interest in talking to an unresponsive audience.

Suddenly the crowd around the pair went up in cheers. Ron saw the Gryffindor team walking proudly onto the pitch, red robes on and brooms in hand. Ron joined in with the rest of Gryffindor house, cheering as loud as he possibly could. He waved at Harry and Oliver, even if they couldn't see him from where they were. Ron found himself thinking that a first year sitting in front of him had the right idea. He was sporting a rather large, curious looking foam hand. If he had one of those, Oliver would see him for sure.

"And they're off!" Called a magically enhanced voice, loud enough to reach every single person in the stands. The voice was that of Lee Jordan, one of the twins' friends. Ron could see fifteen brooms raising into the air, the extra one belonging to Madam Hooch. She was refereeing the match.

"Yeah!" Ron cheered as one of his brothers beamed one of Hufflepuff's Chasers with a bludger. Gryffindor was already up twenty points. Ron watched Oliver narrowly miss blocking a goal by Hufflepuff and pouted a little.

"Good try," he whispered.

Then Ron saw it. He thought of shouting. It wouldn't have mattered. One of the Hufflepuff chasers collided with Oliver while trying to escape from a particularly feisty bludger. Oliver hadn't been expecting it. While the Hufflepuff player stayed on her broom, Oliver was stunned and couldn't regain a firm enough hold on his own. The keeper slid of his broom and fell to the ground with a thud. He wasn't moving.

"No!" Ron shouted, standing up. He attracted a few strange looks from the Gryffindors around him, including Hermione. Ron ran from his seat and started making his way out of the stands. He had to get to Oliver.

Ron was just at the bottom of the stands when the crowd roared with applause. Ron looked up and saw that Harry, clueless as to what had happened to Oliver, had caught the snitch. He was heading towards the ground. His triumphant smile disappeared when he saw Fred and George zooming towards the crumpled form of his captain.

Ron ran towards the spot where Oliver had fallen. He had already been floated onto a stretcher courtesy of one of the Professors.

"Is he all right?" Ron asked. Fred and George gave him an odd sort of look. Harry landed next to Ron just then.

"What happened?" Harry asked. The twins explained, their usual smiles replaced with worried frowns.

Ron frowned. He didn't want Oliver to be hurt. Even though he knew that Oliver would be taken to the hospital wing and fixed up in no time, he couldn't stop himself from letting out some kind of emotion.

Harry gave Ron's shoulder a pat. He was just as confused as the red-haired boy's brothers at Ron's concern for Oliver. The boys started up to the castle, walking next to Oliver's hovering stretcher.

-

Ron left the great hall early that evening, leaving most everyone still eating.

Oliver had been taken to the hospital wing. As soon as Ron was sure that the keeper was safely in a bed and being taken care of, he fled up to the boys' dormitories in Gryffindor tower to avoid questions. He'd collapsed on his four-poster, drawing the curtains tightly closed. He'd pretended to be asleep until dinner.

Ron walked through an empty corridor, his lone footsteps echoing off the walls. Somewhere in a room above him something sounded like it was being destroyed by Peeves the Poltergeist.

Ron soon found himself in front of the door to the hospital wing. He knocked softly and only had to wait a moment before the door was answered. After a small amount of pleading and begging on Ron's part, he was let in to see Oliver. He was told the injured boy had just woken for the first time since the accident.

"He'll need his rest, so only a few minutes now." Ron nodded at this instruction and sat at the side of Oliver's bed. When the two were alone, Ron reached out and squeezed Oliver's hand. The older boy's eyes fluttered open.

"Ron." He smiled weakly.

"Hello there." Ron grinned, brushing a lock of Oliver's hair aside. He had a rather sizable bruise on the side of his face. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was just run over by a few mountain trolls."

Ron squeezed Oliver's hand again. Oliver's eyes sparkled like he'd just remembered something.

"Did we?"

Ron nodded, "By a hundred points." He grinned at the effect this had on Oliver. The older boy smiled widely.

"You're cute when you smile, you know that? You get the smallest little dimple, right there." Ron traced a a small path with one fingertip, just beside Oliver's lips. Oliver let out a hoarse chuckle, cheeks flushing with color.

"You should go now, Mr. Weasley. Let Mr. Wood get his rest," a voice from somewhere past the dividing curtain on one side of Oliver's bed.

"Can he stay, please?" Oliver asked, "We'll be quiet. I'll rest, I promise."

There was no objection from beyond the curtain. Ron stayed where he was. He made sure the curtains surrounding the bed gave them proper privacy before leaning over and giving Oliver a kiss. Settling back in his chair, he reclaimed one of the other boy's hands with his own.

-

Ron woke with a start, disoriented for moment before remembering where he was. It was dark in the room now, which meant it must have been quite late. Too late to go wandering about the castle trying to find his way back to Gryffindor tower. He'd have to stay in the hospital wing for the night.

Ron yawned lazily. He managed to pull himself up onto the empty side of Oliver's bed. He looked at Oliver under the gentle moonlight. He was already almost completely healed. Ron got comfortable and let out a contented sigh.

Oliver reached out and wrapped an arm around Ron, pulling him close. It didn't take Ron very long to fall asleep that way, thinking of nothing sweeter to dream of than that moment.


	5. 5: Giving Me Kisses

Somewhere close by, a bird chirped a happy little tune. Ron Weasley woke slowly, squinting against a cheerful shaft of sunlight. It took him a moment to remember exactly where he was. He found himself not overly concerned with his location. Just as long as that strong arm stayed around him, he'd be happy.

"Morning…" Ron turned at the sound of that voice to find that Oliver was stretching. Oliver gave Ron a goofy, sleepy grin, leaning over to give the red-haired boy a kiss on the cheek.

"Sleep well?"

Ron nodded, "Never better… I don't remember the hospital wing beds being this comfortable."

"You've never been in one with me before…" Oliver smirked, kissing Ron's collarbone playfully.

"Oh, stop." Ron chuckled.

The sound of someone humming came from somewhere across the room. It was unmistakably Madam Pomfrey, going about her morning routine. Ron panicked, scrambling to get out of bed. He succeeded in swinging one leg off the side of the bed before falling off of it entirely. He landed in a heap on the floor with a resounding thud.

"Oomph!" A sound escaped Ron's lips to accompany the rush of air from his lungs. The curtains around Oliver's bed were soon pulled open by Madam Pomfrey. Her eyebrows were raised, silently questioning him.

"Must have dozed off and slid of my chair." He gave her his sincerest smile, hoping he didn't look too strained. She looked at him for only a moment longer before shrugging and going off to her office.

"Are you all right?" Oliver asked. He was peeking over the edge of the bed, grinning. The other boy's smile was unable to exert its full effect on Ron since he he was sprawled across the floor. Had his legs still been beneath him they would have turned to jelly.

Ron pulled himself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. Oliver rubbed the younger boy's shoulders a little.

"Did ickle Ronniekins hurt himself?" Oliver taunted playfully.

"Oh, hush." Ron said, turning his head a little. Despite the close proximity of Madame Pomfrey, Oliver pulled him close for a kiss. The other boy's smile didn't falter for a second.

Ron chuckled lightly, pulling away, "What if she sees us…" It was more of a statement than a question. His lips found Oliver's, impatient for another kiss.

"Let her watch." Oliver slid his arms around Ron. They shared a warm hug and a final kiss before Oliver pulled himself up.

"Shall we go back to Gryffindor tower, then?"

Ron nodded. Oliver took his hand, giving it a warm squeeze.

-

Ron sat in yet another warm, sticky divination lesson. Professor Trelawney wasn't too far away from the table he was sharing with Harry. As usual, she was telling Harry about how horrible and untimely his death would be. It would happen sometime in the next week, no less.

Much to Ron's surprise, Professor Trelawney turned her misty gaze on him. She examined his face until it turned as red as his hair. She certainly had ways of making her students uncomfortable.

"I see your future, Mr. Weasley. The vibrations are coming from you in spades. You're in for quite a bit of happiness in the coming months."

The thin woman then hovered to the front of the room and continued conducting her class. Though her predictions were usually garbage, Ron could hardly do anything but smile for the rest of the lesson. The only other thing he could manage was to draw little hearts on a spare piece of parchment.

The divination lesson went by very quickly after that. Harry fell into step beside Ron once they had climbed down from the divination room. His friend looked at him questioningly.

"Anything you want to talk about, Ron?" The dark-haired boy asked, his eyes peering at Ron from behind his glasses.

"No, not really. Should there be?" Ron replied.

"You just seem," Harry paused for a moment, "Oh, I don't know."

"I'm just in a good mood, that's all. See you back at the tower." Ron nodded to Harry before heading down a hallway near the bottom of the stairs.

-

Ron glanced about as he wandered down the hall, lazily examining the portraits and paintings as he passed them. He wasn't anxious to go to the Gryffindor common room with its crowded noisiness, nor was he hungry enough to go for dinner in the Great Hall. For a while, he'd content himself with directionless meandering.

An arm reached out from behind a statue without warning. Ron would have protested if not for the lips pressed against his. He was kissing back before he had the chance to utter any sound at all.

"Oliver!" He exclaimed, albeit quietly, as he pulled away, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you." The taller boy gave Ron his habitual disarming grin. "I'm here fixing up my broom in Madame Hooch's office. She has some really nice polish, you know. Gives the old pile of sticks a nice shine."

Ron smiled, following Oliver through a door near the statue he had been hiding behind. Oliver's broom was lying on a table looking better than ever. A cheery fire crackled in a fireplace on one side of the room.

Ron sat on the edge of the absent Professor's desk, "You've got it looking good."

Oliver polished the broom a bit more before grasping its handle and pulling it up. He took a seat next to Ron. Both boys were silent for a little while.

"Thanks for staying with me last night. It meant a lot to me."

"It was nothing, Oliver. I'd do it any time. I'd do anything for you."

"I know." Oliver leaned over and gave Ron a kiss. A different sort of kiss. One that made Ron's toes curl and his cheeks flush. When Oliver finally pulled away, he smiled. Ron knew he wanted to look at that smile for a long, long time.


End file.
